Barb Hendee - Child of a Dead God

Father?

The voice threading through the oak into Most Aged Father's mind did not bear Hkuan'duv's cool dispassion. Lyrical but strained, it made Most Aged Father's frail heart quicken.

"Sgailsheilleache?"

A brief pause followed. He had not heard from Sgailsheilleache since the ship had sailed from Ghoivne Ajhajhe.

Father, forgive my long silence… much has happened.

Most Aged Father's first instinct was to rebuke him for his lack of contact. His second was to order Sgailsheilleache to seize the artifact and return. But this was a precarious situation, and he heard pain and doubt in Sgailsheilleache's voice. Whatever had kept him from contact, the dilemma clearly troubled him.

This anmaglahk was balanced on the edge of a knife. He needed reassurance.

"How do you fare, my son? Are you well?"

I am well, Father… His voice broke off and then returned. I still travel with Leshil and the humans. Brot'an'duive felt they would fare better on our ship with an interpreter, and I have… continued my guardianship. But so much has happened… now my thoughts turn circles.

In the mountain peaks, I found A'harhk'nis and Kurhkage slain. I could neither transport nor burn their bodies. I could only ask that the ancestors reach out and guide their spirits home.

Another pause, and a strange edge filled Sgailsheilleache's words when he spoke again.

Do you have knowledge of their mission in that region?

Most Aged Father took his own moment of hesitation. He preferred not to lie outright to one of his own.

"Your news will bring mourning to Crijheaiche. My heart is heavy at their loss. Perhaps your brothers tried to pass over the range and veered off. Kurhkage often coordinated efforts with Urhkarasiferin. They had discussed plans to scout the Ylladon States for potential ways to complicate the Droevinkan civil war. I will speak with Urhkarasiferin, as he may be able to enlighten us."

Yes, Father . Relief filled Sgailsheilleache's voice. That would be appreciated.

"How does your journey fare?"

Magiere has succeeded… but a good distance remains before we can deliver her find to its destination.

Most Aged Father stifled frustration.

Osha and I will travel on to Bela. I will contact you then, on the chance that one of our ships might be near. If not, it will take us longer to return home.

"Ah yes, you have taken young Osha as your student. I was surprised, but you often see promise and potential where others do not. How goes his training?"

He has faced harsh times but remains unwavering in duty and purpose. What he lacks in aptitude, he counters with devotion. I believe, in the end, he may find a place of value among us.

Sgailsheilleache sounded glad to speak of caste matters and the everyday trials of tutelage. It reassured Most Aged Father that he had taken the correct approach.

Sgailsheilleache was fiercely loyal to the caste, but between Brot'an'duive and that half-dead human woman, he followed a misguided path. Someone else needed to step in and relieve him of his burden.

"I am pleased to hear you fare well, my son," Most Aged Father said warmly. "And what is your current location?"

Our location?

"To gauge the days until you reach Bela… and if possible, dispatch a military vessel to meet you."

That would be most welcome, Father. We are southwest of the mountains below Droevinka… at the inland end of what the humans call the Everfen.

"In the swamplands? That will not be pleasant going. How far in?"

Barely a morning's travel due west. We were fortunate to find an empty dwelling and will pass this one night in better comfort .

Most Aged Father could not extend his awareness beyond his people's forest. But he could feel a sense of place when one of his caste spoke to him through word-wood. In touching such to a living tree, the speaker's voice was altered subtly by what the word-wood pressed against.

"And you call me from a willow tree?" he said. "In the middle of that swamp? Ah, a hardy tree it is."

He played this little game with a few of his oldest or dearest children- to see if Most Aged Father could name the caller's tree.

Yes, Father, you rarely miss. Another pause followed. It is so good to speak with you again.

"And with you, my son."

I will contact you again when we reach Bela.

"I look forward to your return… and will do what I can to hasten it."

In silence and in shadows, Father .

The connection faded.

Most Aged Father had put Sgailsheilleache's troubled mind at ease, and this situation would soon be over. He clicked his fingers against his bower, waiting a long time, until another voice threaded through the oak's wood.

Father, I fear that I have little-

"Wait, Hkuan'duv… and listen carefully."

The next morning, Leesil had barely stepped outside to stretch when Sgaile called from around the shack's rear.

"Leshil… Magiere… come!"

Magiere emerged behind Leesil, rubbing her eyes. "What's he yelling about?"

Leesil shrugged and walked off around the dwelling with Magiere on his heels. When he saw Sgaile holding up the edge of a tarp, he stopped. Magiere nearly stumbled over him.

Sgaile crouched beside a narrow longboat pulled up the knoll. It looked sound and in good shape.

"This must be how the old man gained his supplies," Sgaile said, far more cheerful than he'd been in days, "which means there is a settlement somewhere within reach."

Leesil glanced at Magiere.

She raised one eyebrow. "He's in a rare mood."

When Sgaile had returned from his short evening scout the night before, his demeanor had altered drastically. He'd checked on the orb, nosed in on Wynn's cooking, and Leesil could have sworn the dour elf almost smiled at the aroma rising from the blackened iron pot.

But in any case, the boat was a welcome sight. Leesil trotted forward to inspect it.

"Well, a settlement might not be so good," he replied. "Not if Droevinka is turned upside down in a civil war."

"True enough," Sgaile agreed. "But it is an opportunity to renew our supplies… and make the rest of the journey more tolerable."

Leesil looked up at him. "Did you find a flask of rum you didn't bother to share?"

"A flask of what?"

"Never mind."

Magiere stood with folded arms, quietly looking over the boat.

Leesil knew her feelings were mixed. She was desperate to reach Miiska but not eager to pass through her old homeland during a civil war-and neither was he, for that matter.

Wynn and Osha came around the side of the shack, erupting in excited chatter at the sight of the longboat. Chap came last, tail in the air. Magiere just rolled her eyes at them. She gazed around the marshes and cattails, moss-laden trees and murky green waters. Frogs croaked and enormous dragonflies sailed past.

"Never thought I'd miss this country," she said, "but after so long in those mountains…"

"Oh, we must be mad!" Leesil returned with exaggerated drama.

Magiere half smiled at him as she headed back inside.

They had all passed a pleasant night, and what remained of dinner, from flatbread and honey to chickpeas and smoked-cured beef, was still welcome for breakfast. As they began gathering their gear, Magiere retrieved the orb herself.

Soon, everyone had coats or cloaks with weapons strapped on. All their belongings were piled at the knoll's edge as Leesil helped Sgaile slide the longboat into the murky water.

"Store goods both ends-better balance," Osha suggested.

"I forgot the rest of the flatbread," Wynn said and ran for the shack. "I will be right back."